


After the Witches are Slain and the Ale is Drunk

by FreshBrains



Category: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Sex, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sexual Inexperience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2679329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“My sister and I have a lot of things in common.  We hate waking up early, we’re pissy when we’re hungry, and after burning a witch, we both itch for a fuck.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Witches are Slain and the Ale is Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> For the Small Fandom Fest 16 prompt: _Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013), Hansel/Ben, a successful hunt has always left Hansel with a lot of pent up adrenaline, Ben's happy to help Hansel relieve it._

“Teenage witches,” Hansel grumbles, muffling a belch, “are the fucking _worst_.”  He tips back his pint before slamming it down on the rickety tavern table.  “Right, Gretel?”

“For sure,” Gretel yells back from the end of the bar where she’s sitting on the lap of some local miner with a dark beard and big arms.  He wraps an arm around her waist and whispers something in her ear, and she laughs, sliding onto her feet.  “See you two sorry assholes tomorrow,” she calls to Hansel and Ben, winking as she and her companion wander up the stairs to the inn.  Hansel just waves back—Ben knows that he’d only be worried if Edward wasn’t on guard in the next room.

Ben slumps back in his chair, his pint only half-drained.  He’s long gotten over his mooning over Gretel, but he’d still rather be the one taking her to bed.  “Why does she only do that after a kill?”

“Do what?” Hansel removes his knife from his belt, flipping it in the air.  He nicks his thumb but just shrugs it off, sucking away the blood.  He’d spent hours cleaning his weapons after taking down a coven of young witches in the area’s cave system—dark, scaly, awful things with blood like ink.  His knife gleams an untainted silver.

“Find a guy,” Ben says, face flushing.  “I mean, she can have any man whenever she wants.  But she only ever picks one after a big kill.”

Hansel laughs, kicking his feet up onto the table.  There’s a streak of dried blood on the tip of his boot.  “My sister and I have a lot of things in common.  We hate waking up early, we’re pissy when we’re hungry, and after burning a witch, we both itch for a fuck.”

Ben screws his nose up.  “With each other?”

“No, you little shit,” Hansel says, shoving Ben in the arm.  “Haven’t you ever had an adrenaline rush?  Makes you dizzy, you feel like you’re on top of the damn world?  Every time we finish a witch off and get our money, it’s like we’re _gods_.”

Ben honestly doesn’t know the feeling—he hasn’t been hunting long enough.  Each kill is still downright terrifying.  “So why haven’t you found a woman tonight, then?”

“Because,” Hansel says, wrapping his big hand around the nape of Ben’s neck, “I’m not nearly drunk enough yet.  Finish that off and I’ll get us another round.”

*

Two hours, six pints, and one bar brawl later, Hansel pulls Ben up the stairs to the inn, his laughter hot and loud in Ben’s ear.  “Did you see that fucker’s face?” Hansel tugs Ben along, hand wrapped around Ben’s bicep.  “It was like he’s never seen a damn hatchet before.”

“Probably not pointed at his balls,” Ben hiccups, pleasantly drunk and buzzed from the fight.  He’s got a shiner and two hands of bloody knuckles to prove it.  “What about Gretel?”

Hansel turns on the stairs, almost sending both of them back down into the raucous barroom.  “She’ll still be occupied.  We’ll bunk together tonight.”

Ben nods, his chest still pounding.  He rubs his knuckles against the coarse wool of his vest, sending a sting through the torn flesh, but at the same time, it sends a bolt of arousal straight to his cock.  Before he can sort out the ale-thoughts and the smart-thoughts running through his brain, he grips Hansel’s shirt-collar in his bloody hands and presses him up against the wall.  “I’m going to kiss you now,” he slurs.

“About fucking time,” Hansel says, wrapping a hand around the nape of Ben’s neck and pulling him in for a hot, hard kiss. 

Ben gasps, the noise swallowed by Hansel with a low growl, and he practically melts into Hansel’s arms, the adrenaline seeping out of him like air.  But he can feel Hansel’s heart beating erratically beneath their layers of wool and leather, can feel Hansel hard as stone against his thigh, and it sends a shiver down the back Ben’s neck.  He kisses back, lips smashing inexpertly into Hansel’s but Hansel doesn’t seem to mind.

“Get your ass in there,” Hansel grunts, mouth moving down Ben’s neck as he pushes their room door open with one hand.  Ben stumbles ahead of him, yelping in surprise when Hansel smacks his ass.  “Take your clothes off.”  He closes the door and leans his gun against the frame.  He unbuckles his belt with one hand and lets it drop to the floor, already making good time on his coat and shirt.

Ben has zero experience with men or women, not a sensual bone in his awkward, skinny body, so he divests his vest and shirt quickly with no bravado, tossing them into pools on the floor.  He kicks off his boots.  His books are still piled in the corner, safe from looters, and he kicks his clothing over to cover them.

By the time he’s naked and shivering in the middle of the dark room, Hansel is sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but his pants and unlaced boots, jabbing his needle into his thigh.  Once he’s tucked his supplies back into the leather pouch, he looks up, eyes hooded with arousal.  “Come here.”

Ben obeys, standing in front of Hansel, and Hansel wastes no time pulling him down into his lap.  “You ever kissed a man before tonight, kid?”

Ben swallows hard and shakes his head, trying hard to ignore the way his erection rubs against Hansel’s muscular thigh.  “Well, once, I guess.  When I was small.  He ended up rubbing my face in the dirt, though.”

Hansel laughs, arms wrapped around Ben’s back, pulling him closer.  “I promise I won’t do the same.”  He goes in for Ben’s neck again, teeth grazing the tender area between shoulder and neck, and Ben whimpers, hand fisted in Hansel’s hair.

“Can I…?” He reaches for the ties of Hansel’s pants, fingers shaking only a little.  He’s not scared, not with Hansel’s smooth skin and glazed eyes beneath him, but he’s nervous, still a little wobbly from drink.  He knows Hansel has bedded countless men and women before him; he wants to make it good.  He wants to be Hansel’s post-kill reward.

Hansel smooths a hand through Ben’s hair, pushing it away from his face.  “Fuck yeah, go for it.”  His smile is small, amused—the sort of smile Ben always wished to get out of the siblings he loved more than anything.

Ben pushes past the tangle of leather laces and finds Hansel cock, huge and hard in his hand.  Hansel’s bigger than him, not too much longer but _thicker,_ but Ben has spent enough time with his own to know what feels good.  He smiles to himself.  “I know what to do with this,” he says, face burning when he realizes he did indeed _say_ it and not think it.

Hansel laughs again, tipping his head back and breathing in short gasps as Ben moves his hand dryly along the length.  “Glad to hear it,” he says, and grabs Ben’s wrist.  He brings Ben’s hand to his mouth and says, “Be a good boy and lick it for me.”

Ben obeys without thinking, laving his tongue down his own hand before bringing it back down to Hansel’s cock.  Hansel’s hips arch on the bed and Ben widens his knees, giving Hansel more room to move.  He strokes his thumb over the head of Hansel’s cock and jerks him in hard, sure motions, trying to keep his balance on the bed.  Before he can even consider dropping to the floor and putting his mouth on Hansel, Hansel bucks twice and comes, warm and dripping on his bare chest and Ben’s.

“Shit,” he hisses, “I’m like a fucking kid, can’t get enough of you.”  Ben moves to get off and get a rag to clean them up, but Hansel only huffs out a laugh and says, “No, I’m not done with you yet.”  He pushes Ben down on the feather bed and looms over him, muscles hard and gleaming with a thin layer of sweat, breath still pleasantly sharp from ale. 

“You can, uh,” Ben gasps, writing beneath Hansel, squirming to get friction between them.  He can feel Hansel’s come drying on his chest.  “You can fuck me if you’d like.”  He’s never done it before but he knows he’ll like it with Hansel, and he’s got oil in his pack.  He can’t imagine Hansel would have a hard time getting it up again—he doesn’t do anything half-ass.

Hansel barks out a laugh, his face going red with arousal.  “Yeah, I’d fucking _like_.  When we wake up your ass is mine.  But for now, I’m getting you off and then we’re going to sleep.”

Ben nods, biting his lips, and Hansel grips his cock in his large hand.  Ben always wondered what it would feel like having a woman’s hand on him, their skin soft and delicate, but Hansel is so much better than he ever imagined it could be, his movements sure and firm and just enough to have Ben clawing at the blankets.

“Need it wetter?” Hansel kisses Ben on the side of the face, sloppy and sweet.

“No,” Ben says, closing his eyes.  He can feel his lower back tightening with the need to come already.  “I like it like this.”  The slight burn of it, the urgency, the way Hansel’s shoulder looks as his arm moves between them.

Hansel groans, burying his face in Ben’s neck.  His hand tightens perfectly and Ben bucks into the warm, slightly rough channel of his hand.  “God, I knew you’d be like this.  Gonna have to fuck you up against a goddamn wall after every hunt now, you’re a _firecracker._ ”

Ben digs his fingernails into Hansel’s back and comes, spine arching into Hansel, the adrenaline spiking them oozing out of him until he’d boneless and panting beneath Hansel. 

“Yeah,” Hansel breathes, rolling to lie next to Ben on the small bed.  “Yeah, kid, you’ll do.”


End file.
